Murder: True Crime Stories - UNSOLVED: The Murder of Marilyn Sheppard 1

Episode Date: July 28, 2026

On the morning of July 4th, 1954, 31-year-old Marilyn Sheppard was found beaten to death in her lakeside home in Bay Village, Ohio. On the morning of July 4th, 1954, 31-year-old Marilyn Sheppard was found beaten to death in her lakeside home in Bay Village, Ohio. She was four months pregnant. Her husband, prominent osteopathic surgeon Sam Sheppard, claimed a bushy-haired intruder had knocked him unconscious before killing his wife. But his story had gaps, his marriage had secrets, and within hours, the man who called for help became the prime suspect. The case would soon become a national obsession and reportedly serve as the loose inspiration for the hit television series The Fugitive. In Part 1 of Murder: True Crime Stories, host Carter Roy introduces Marilyn, the years of affairs and broken promises that defined her marriage, and the night her quiet Ohio home became one of the most infamous crime scenes in American history.Head over to our YouTube channel to WATCH our video episodes: https://www.youtube.com/@crimehousestudios If you’re new here, don’t forget to follow Murder: True Crime Stories to never miss a case! Want all 2 parts of every case all at once? Join Crime House+ and get both parts of each case dropped at once ad-free. Join at crimehouseplus.com or if you’re listening on Apple Podcasts, tap “Try Free” at the top of this show’s page. Murder: True Crime Stories is a Crime House Original Podcast, powered by PAVE Studios.🎧 Need More to Binge? Listen to other Crime House Originals Clues, Crimes Of…, Serial Killers & Murderous Minds, Crime House 24/7, and more wherever you get your podcasts!Follow me on SocialInstagram: @CrimehouseTikTok: @CrimehouseFacebook: @crimehousestudiosX: @crimehousemediaYouTube: @crimehousestudios

Hi listeners, it's Carter. Before today's episode of Murder True Crime Stories, I want to tell you about another podcast I am hosting. I know you'll love. Crime House and A&E are teaming up on the podcast version of the famous true crime series, The First 48. Each week, I'll take you inside a landmark homicide case, the interrogations, the dead ends,

and the breakthroughs in the critical first 48 hours. listen to and follow the first 48 every Thursday on Apple Podcasts, Spotify, Amazon Music, or wherever you listen to podcasts. This is Crime House. It's easy to get swept up in a good story, especially when Hollywood tells it, but most great dramas don't appear out of thin air. Writers pull from real life, whether they admit it or not. The creator of the 1963 television series The Fugitive always insisted his show had nothing to do with a real case.

That was a little hard to believe because there were so many parallels to one in particular. That case involved a doctor, his murdered wife, a conviction that wouldn't hold up, and a relentless chase for the truth. The show ran for four seasons. it ended with one of the most watched finalies in television history. Decades later, Harrison Ford brought the whole thing back to the big screen in the form of a hit movie. But the real story, the one the writer swore he'd never heard of, happened all the way back in 1954. On the shores of Lake Erie, a woman named Marilyn Shepard was beaten to death in her own bed. in the fugitive, the murdered wife is barely there, alive just long enough to die and send the hero running.

History did the same thing to the real Marilyn, and she was remembered through the lens of what her husband did or didn't do. The difference? The fugitive gave its audience an answer. Real life never did. People's lives are like a story. There's a beginning, a middle, and an end, but you don't always know which part you're on. Sometimes the final chapter arrives far too soon, and we don't always get to know the real ending.

I'm Carter Roy, and this is Murder, True Crime Stories, the Crime House original powered by Pave Studios. New episodes come at every Tuesday, Thursday, and Friday, with Friday's episodes covering the cases that deserve a deeper look. Thank you for being part of the Crime House. community, please rate, review, and follow the show, and for early, add free access to every episode, subscribe to Crime House Plus. You'll get part one and part two at the same time, plus exclusive bonus content. To join, go to crimehouseplus.com or tap try free on the Murder

True Crime Story show page on Apple Podcasts. This is the first of two episodes on one of the most infamous cases in American history, The Murder of 31-year-old. Marilyn Shepard. On the morning of July 4, 1954, when she was four months pregnant, Marilyn was beaten to death in her own home. Investigators narrowed in on a suspect almost immediately, but finding justice proved to be harder than anyone expected. Today, I'll introduce you to Marilyn, a woman who just wanted to be loved and spent years trying to hold together a marriage that was never quite right. In her final months, it seemed like she and her husband, Sam,

had finally found their footing until she was killed, and he became the prime suspect. Next time, I'll explain how the press turned the case into a witch hunt, pressuring the authorities into a trial that gripped the country, but did investigators have the right man, or did they lock on to one theory too soon? The fight over that question would drag on for decades and rewrite the rules between the press and the American courtroom for good.

All that and more coming up. Marilyn Reese was born in April, 1923 in Cleveland, Ohio. Her father Thomas wasn't the warmest, but he was generous. He was an inventor and a vice president at a manufacturing company who made sure his daughter had everything she wanted. That's what Marilyn remembered about him in the early years, and we have memories like that one, and so much of the rest of her story, thanks to journalist James Neff, who spent years reconstructing her life for his book, The Wrong Man.

But her mother, Dorothy, was a different story. Marilyn barely knew her. Dorothy's pregnancy with Marilyn had been brutal, so brutal that she waited six years before trying for another child. She hoped the second time would go back. better. It was worse. Dorothy's second delivery was complicated, catastrophically so. Neither she nor her infant son survived. Marilyn was six years old, and just like that, her mom was gone. Her father didn't know what to do with his grief. He certainly didn't know how to raise a young daughter in the

middle of it. So he made a decision. He sent Marilyn away to live with her aunt and unlaw. uncle. Marilyn was too young to really understand why. All she knew was that she'd lost her mom, and now she'd lost her dad, too. In a way, losing him was worse. Unlike her mom, he was still alive. He'd just chosen not to keep her. That was a wound that would never fully close. A few years later, Marilyn moved back to Cleveland to live with her dad, who had remarried, but things between them never really mended. There was always a distance there, a canyon, really. It became Maryland's fatal flaw.

She couldn't have explained it yet, but it was there. A desperate need to find someone who would never send her away. Someone who would choose her above everything else. She found him in junior high. His name was Sam Shepard. He was a year behind her, a good-looking athlete from one of the most prominent families in town. His father had founded the local hospital and basically ran the place. The shepherds were well-respected, well-off, and well-known.

But more importantly, for a teenage Marilyn, Sam was cute. One day, Marilyn convinced a friend to introduce her to Sam before his basketball practice. It was a little awkward. It was middle school after all, but Sam was interested, right away. Maryland was pretty with long brown hair and hazel eyes, and he was flattered that a girl a year ahead of him even knew who he was. In junior high, a one-year age gap felt enormous. It was exciting. That was pretty much all it took. They became middle school sweethearts. Marilyn and Sam kept dating all through high school, and they just seemed to work. They were both in student government. Sam was

class president and Maryland served on the student council. They came from the same kind of comfortable and privileged world, and both their families seemed happy they'd found each other. But as Marilyn reached her senior year, the future started to loom. She was going to leave for college while Sam stayed behind. She didn't want anyone getting any ideas, not other girls and certainly not Sam. Marilyn wanted it crystal clear that he was hers. There was a custom back then called pinning. When a boy gave a girl his pin, it was a promise of sorts. Not quite an engagement ring, but the step right before it. It meant that in a few years, he intended to propose. Marilyn wanted Sam's pin, so at a school dance that year,

she pulled him outside. Standing there in the dark, she told him, she loved him. She loved him. She him that he was the only one for her. Sam was caught a little off guard, but he said he felt the same way. Then, because that was what you did back then when someone said, I love you, San gave Marilyn his pen. Now, Marilyn must have felt a huge wave of relief. For the first time since she was six years old, she'd proven to herself that someone had finally chosen her, even if she'd had to orchestrate the whole thing to make it happen. As planned in the fall of 1941, Maryland graduated and left Cleveland for Skidmore College, a small women's liberal arts school in upstate New York. She wasn't happy about it. Skidmore wasn't really her choice. It was just what girls from good families did.

He went to college and got an education, or you found a husband. But Marilyn already had Sam back home, and all she wanted was to go back to him. She wrote him every single day. If he didn't write back fast enough, she spiraled. Her grades reflected exactly where her attention was, anywhere but the classroom. Her Spanish teacher made that pretty clear on one of her report cards. they wrote, quote, Very mediocre student who made little effort, showed little interest, and cut too often.

So no one was exactly surprised when Marilyn dropped out by the end of freshman year. She packed her bags and went home to Cleveland Heights. Now the situation was reversed. Marilyn was home and Sam was the one leaving. He had buckled down and excelled in his final year of high school, He had a family legacy to uphold after all. His dad had gone to medical school, and so had his older brothers. That was the plan for Sam, too.

That fall, he enrolled at Hanover College in rural Indiana. Maryland sent him off with an expensive watch and one request, keep writing every day. They agreed they could see other people while they were apart. Just casual dates, nothing serious. they were still together, but Sam thought it was important. They spread their wings a little. Marilyn only seemed to agree because it was what Sam wanted. She didn't want to risk losing him.

So Marilyn dutifully told Sam about every guy she went out with, but her motive was clear. She only told him because she wanted him to tell her to stop, to say he didn't want her seeing anyone but him. He never did. He told her it was fine. He even encouraged it. Then, after only two months at Hanover, Sam pulled a full 180.

He called Marilyn and asked her to come to Indiana. He missed her. He loved her, and he wanted to get married. He was caught up in the mood of the time. All around him, men his age were getting married before they enlist. or got drafted into the war. As a future physician, Sam was exempt from the draft, but he still felt the urgency of the moment,

and he wanted to be a part of it. It was everything Maryland supposedly wanted. But for some reason, she didn't jump at it. In that little hesitation, Sam started to have doubts of his own. Maybe they were too young. Maybe there was more out there. One afternoon, Sam was home from school visiting his parents. He was working on his car in the driveway when a girl walked up to him.

Her name was Rudy Bales, and she was clearly interested. Impulsively, Sam asked her out. She said yes. Sam was thrilled until his mom found out. She basically forced him to tell Marilyn about the date before he went. Sam figured it wouldn't be. be that big a deal. They dated other people before he ever brought up marriage. Surely they could still date other people now that Marilyn had pushed the idea off. But when he told Marilyn she was

heartbroken, he'd just been talking about marriage and now he was going on a date with another girl. They clearly were not on the same page. Marilyn was so hurt that she broke up with him on the spot. She fumbled with a pin on her chest. The one he'd given her two years earlier in war every single day, she unclipped it and handed it back. If this was how he was going to treat her, they were done. Sam was blindsided. He hadn't seen that reaction coming at all.

But he went ahead and dated Rudy anyway. After only a few dates, he gave her his pin. When word got back to Maryland, she was, inconsolable, depressed even. The one person who was always supposed to choose her had turned around and chosen somebody else. At that point, Sam seemed to realize that he'd really messed up. He liked Rudy, but he loved Marilyn. And although she'd been the one to end things, he still had feelings for her, and he wanted to make it right. So he got his pin back from Rudy. and offered it to Marilyn all over again.

It was a lot of back and forth, but they were young and figuring it out. Marilyn accepted his pen and his apology, and everything seemed fine again, at least on the surface. But the truth was, Sam had gotten a taste of what it was like to be with other women, and he wasn't sure he was ready to let that feeling go. That tension between the life Sam was building with Marilyn and the life he saw. sometimes imagined without her, would come to define their entire marriage. And Marilyn was the one who would pay the price. By 1942, 19-year-old Marilyn Reese and her boyfriend, 18-year-old Sam Shepard, had patched things back together. The whole business with Rudy Bales was behind them, and they

were looking toward the future. Sam was flying through his undergraduate courses. He moved so fast, that within two years he was already applying to medical school. His top choice was in Los Angeles, the same school his older brothers had gone to. If Sam didn't get in, he'd never hear the end of it from his siblings. Luckily for him, the acceptance letter came. He was off to the west coast.

Maryland didn't go with Sam right away, but they kept writing every day, and Sam started bringing up marriage again. By the end of 1944, he was serious about it. He was ready, and for the first time, so was Maryland. Conveniently, both their fathers had plans to travel to California that winter, so Sam and Maryland arranged a small wedding around those trips.

In February, 1945, they got married in a Hollywood church. They were both 21. Afterward, the dean of Sam's school threw a reception for them at his house. It wasn't the wedding Marilyn had imagined. She and Sam used to talk about the perfect day, something dreamy and romantic, when the honeymoon right after, just the two of them. The reality was different. Sam didn't think he could take any time away from school, so there was no honeymoon.

Marilyn simply moved to L.A. to live with him, and he went right back to his normal wife. Marilyn told herself, it was fine. Sam would be a doctor soon, and, everything would work out. They'd have money and stability and a real life together, and they could take all the vacations they wanted then. She clung to that version of the future, and she did whatever she could to help Sam get there. She quizzed him for his exams. She typed up his report so he could focus on other things. She even took a part-time job at a research lab to help cover their bills. On top of that, her dad sent them $50 a month.

For all practical purposes, Marilyn was keeping them both afloat. She would do anything for Sam. In those early California years, their marriage genuinely seemed good. Marilyn and Sam love the L.A. weather and the openness of it all. They played tennis on Sam's days off. They'd drop the top on their convertible and drive to the beach. Marilyn made friends with the other doctor's wives. Life was easy in a way Cleveland never quite had.

been. And one couple they grew especially close to were Randall and Joe Chapman. The four of them took trips together, played doubles tennis, and lingered over long dinners. Sam and Randall became especially close. When the wives weren't around, Randall introduced Sam to an idea that would reshape his whole marriage. Randall called it his L.A. wife. Anyone else? would just call it a mistress. Whenever Joe was out of town, there was another woman Randall would call. He told Sam he could have the same kind of arrangement if he wanted it. Sam had dated around before he got married, but this felt different.

Back home, affairs weren't something people did, or at least weren't something people talked about so openly. But Sam wasn't in the Midwest anymore. and California had already been changing him in other ways. He drank at parties now when he never used to. He'd taken up a pipe. He told off-color jokes with women in the room. Piece by piece, he'd been loosening up.

Then, with Randall's encouragement, he let go of the last of his reservations. Sam started openly flirting with other women, even with Maryland right there. At one party, a young wife sat down on Sam's lap while Marilyn stood a few feet away. Maryland said nothing and pretended not to notice, but of course she noticed. And she suspected there was a lot more going on behind to close doors. Back in Cleveland, Sam's father also seemed to sense that something was off. He wrote to the couple and suggested it might be time to start a family. He even sweetened it with an offer.

If Marilyn got pregnant and had to leave her lab job, he'd make up the difference in their income every month. Whatever was simmering between them, Sam and Marilyn agreed that Sam's dad had a point. They should have a child. Within a month, Marilyn was pregnant. Like her mother's, Marilyn's pregnancy was hard. She developed a chronic cough and dealt with painful spasms

throughout her first trimester. When it finally came time to deliver, she fought through 16 hours of labor. But on May 18, 1947, she delivered a healthy baby boy. They named him Samuel Reese Shepard. Everyone just called him Chip. At first, Marilyn and Sam had family in town

to help them adjust to life with a newborn, but those helping hands didn't stay. One by one, the relatives left Los Angeles. Sam went back to his relentless medical school schedule, and Maryland was left alone with an infant in a city far from home. No more tennis, no more beach, no more driving around with the top down. All she could do was stay home with the baby. She felt trapped, exhausted, and completely on her own.

Looking back, Marilyn was pretty clearly suffering from what we'd now call postpartum depression, but Marilyn didn't have the words for it at the time. After a few months, Sam grew frustrated. His main gripe was that she had no interest in sex. He thought about it the way a doctor might. He figured she connected her unhappiness to the new baby, and the baby had come from sex so she'd shut sex out entirely. and the idea that she might just need her husband's supports never seemed to cross his mind. All Sam could think about was that he needed someone to want him, so he found someone who did.

The next year, Sam officially became a doctor. Marilyn had hoped that would be the turning point for them. Instead, he got assigned overnight shifts in the maternity ward and even longer hours away from home. Marilyn felt more abandoned than ever. She also suspected he was having affairs, maybe with hospital staff, maybe with other women in his orbit. She didn't have names, but she had instincts, and those instincts were right. By that point, Sam had already had several affairs.

One was with the wife of a resident doctor, another with a nursing instructor, who knows how many others there were. Sam later claimed Marilyn knew about the affairs and that it wasn't really a problem. He said he still loved her. She just wasn't interested in intimacy, so he had to find it somewhere else. That was how he justified it to himself. Whether or not Marilyn knew these specifics, she knew something was wrong and she wanted to go home to Cleveland. Sam's father and brothers were all pulling for him to come back and join the family hospital. Honestly, that sounded pretty good to Maryland, who hadn't been happy in California for a long time. Sam wasn't convinced.

He loved Los Angeles. He had friends there, colleagues, and, of course, his affairs. So while he weighed whether he could give all of that up, Maryland took a trip. In the summer of 1950, she took their son and went home to Ohio. Unsurprisingly, leaving Sam alone in Los Angeles led to exactly one thing. He started another affair. This one got serious enough that the woman pushed him to leave Marilyn. Sam hesitated.

Then, in what had become a strange habit of his, he wrote to Marilyn and told her all about his feelings for her. this other woman. Marilyn couldn't believe she was going through this again. She asked him why he'd even bother telling her. Did he want a divorce? Sam didn't say no. He just said it was up to her. At first, Marilyn thought about giving up. She'd been riding the same back and forth for years. Sam loved her, then he loved someone else. She was happy, then she was lonely. She was tired of it. But she also realized she wasn't going to let her marriage go that easily.

So she went to the one person she believed could talk some sense into Sam, his father. At the end of the summer, Sam drove to Cleveland to pick up Maryland and Chip. But when he got there, his family was basically waiting to stage an intervention. his father, his brothers, even his sisters-in-law, they all knew what he'd been up to back in L.A., and they were squarely on Maryland's side. Sam's dad didn't mince words. Sam needed to get over himself and grow up.

One by one, the whole family gave him a piece of their mind. By the time it was over and Sam and Marilyn had to make the drive back to California, something had shifted in him. He cared deeply about what his family thought. He didn't want to let them down. In the car heading west, there was nothing for the two of them to do but talk, so they went through all their options. By the time they reached Los Angeles, they'd made two decisions. First, they were staying together.

Second, they were moving back to Cleveland. They hoped life back in Ohio would finally be better. They could not have been more wrong. In 1951, 28-year-old Marilyn Shepard and her husband, 27-year-old Sam, moved home to the Cleveland suburb of Bay Village. Sam joined the staff at Bayview Hospital. Landing the job wasn't exactly hard, and Sam quickly became one of the area's most prominent osteopathic surgeons.

Osteopaths were trained, licensed doctors who took a more hands-on, whole. body approach to medicine, but in the 1950s, the mainstream medical world still looked down on them. For decades, the American Medical Association had called osteopathy a cult and told its own members it was unethical to even consult an osteopath. But that was the establishment's view, not the public's. In Bay Village, Sam was no second-class doctor. He came from the family that had built the local hospital and his neighbors treated him accordingly. He and Maryland bought a two-story house right on the shores of Lake Erie. The couple became friendly with the mayor.

Their neighbor was Cleveland Brown's quarterback Otto Graham. Graham's wife, Beverly, became one of Maryland's good friends. In the summers, while Otto was away at training camp, Sam would take Marilyn and Beverly out water skiing on the lake. Marilyn loved it. She was athletic. a little competitive, and the kind of person who kept a bowling trophy

out on display in the den. On the surface, it looked like everything she'd ever wanted. She was home, she was respected, she had a beautiful house on the lake, a young son, and a successful husband. Marilyn let herself believe they'd finally put all the messiness of California behind them. That was wishful thinking.

You could take the man out of California, but you couldn't take California out of the man. Sam had changed out west, and he was about to bring all of that home with him. That same year, Sam met a young lab technician who handled the lab work for his emergency calls. Her name was Susan Hayes. They were friendly at first, then they were more than that. By the end of 1952, they were sleeping together. In his car, at her apartment, Sam barely tried to hide it. Half the hospital knew, and the gossip spread like wildfire.

Before long, it reached Maryland too. At one hospital party, she left early in tears because Sam was all over Susan. He'd been so obvious about it that everyone saw. According to Susan, Sam first floated the idea of divorce in early night. 1953, soon after they started sleeping together. He told her he loved Marilyn as a person, just not so much as a wife. But he was hesitant to actually separate because he wasn't sure his father would approve. By the end of that year, Sam told Susan he'd raised the subject of divorce with Marilyn herself.

Then in January, 1954, he told Susan, he loved her. her. A month later, Susan left Ohio for a job in Los Angeles. A few weeks after that, Sam and Maryland just happened to travel to California to visit friends. While Maryland spent a few days at a ranch with a girlfriend, Sam called Susan. The two of them ended up spending the entire week together. They seemed obsessed with each other. But even though Sam kept talking about leaving, it's not clear if he actually brought it up to Maryland. He certainly never went through with it. He was too worried about how it would look

and what it might do to his reputation. So when the week ended, Sam went back to Maryland. He told her the time apart had made him realize how much they were meant for each other. He wanted to stay together and make the marriage work. Marilyn must have felt the same. They agreed to start fresh once they got home. Carried away by that romantic declaration, they slept together that night.

They were starting over, or at least that's what they told themselves. It wasn't exactly smooth sailing once they got back to Bay Village. Marilyn found receipts for a gift Sam had bought for Susan and she was furious. Then she learned Susan had sent Sam a letter at her. his office. A letter someone on staff had opened. Maryland got her hands on that letter and she held on to it. She told friends she wanted a divorce no matter what it meant for Sam's reputation and she planned to use the letter as leverage to get it. But then she found out she was pregnant. Whatever plans she'd been making, she put them on hold and backed off her threats.

In early June, she and Sam shared the happy news with the rest of the family. To anyone watching from the outside, it looked like the storm had passed. Sam himself wrote that month that they were as happy as they'd ever been. And whether that was true was another question, because a baby might be a band-d be. but it doesn't heal the wound underneath. And all of Sam and Marilyn's problems were still there, bubbling just below the surface. On the evening of Saturday, July 3rd, Marilyn and Sam had their friends Dawn and Nancy Ahern over for dinner. The Ahern's brought their two young kids. It was an easy, relaxed night, drinks, food, the sun going down over Lake Erie.

Once it got dark, the children needed to go to bed. Don took his home and tucked them in. Marilyn carried her and Sam's seven-year-old son Chip up to his room and put him down for the night. When the kid settled in, the two couples gathered back in the Shepard's living room and put on a movie called Strange Holiday. Marilyn sat on Sam's lap for a while until he asked to move. He'd had a long draining day in the emergency room and he needed to stretch out. He shifted over to the daybed.

As the movie played on, he fell asleep. Around midnight, the Hearns said their goodbyes and headed home. Marilyn walked them to the door and waved them off. Then she went upstairs to bed, leaving Sam asleep on the daybed. She didn't want to wake him. He needed his rest. Later that day, the whole family was supposed to go on her dad's boat for a four of July outing.

Marilyn never made it. What happened next depends entirely on who you believe. According to Sam, he was jolted awake in the early morning hours by his wife screaming his name. He said he ran upstairs to their bedroom. It was still dark out, and every light was off so he could barely see. But when he reached the room, Marilyn was on the bed covered in blood. Her pajama top had been pushed up, her bottoms had been pulled down, and someone was standing over her.

Sam said he grappled with the intruder trying to drag him away from Maryland. Then something struck him from behind, a blow to the back of the neck. He went down hard, knocked out cold. When he came to, the intruder was gone. Sam said he went to Maryland's side and felt for a pulse. As a doctor, he knew exactly what he was doing, and he knew the terrible truth. She was dead. Sam said he rushed to his son's room next door to check on him.

Chip was still asleep, unharmed, completely unaware. Then Sam ran downstairs and out the back of the house toward the water. He said he could see the intruder up ahead, running away. According to Sam, he chased him all the way down to the lake's edge and lunged for him. But the man fought back, getting Sam into a chokehold. At that point, Sam allegedly blacked out a second time. When he came to, he was lying on the beach, soaked through, with his shirt and his watch, both gone. He had no idea how any of it had happened.

He made his way back up to the house, and then, instead of calling the police, he called the mayor. It was around 5.40 a.m. on July 4th, 1954, when the phone rang at Spencer Houtts' house. Halk was the mayor of Bay Village. He was also Sam's neighbor and friend. He picked up and heard Sam on the other end. Sam said, quote, my God, Spence, get over here quick. I think they have killed Marilyn. For a second, the mayor wasn't sure he'd heard right. Maryland? Murdered? Well, there had to be some mistake. But he threw on his clothes and woke his wife, Esther. Together they drove the short distance to the shepherd's house. They were there within minutes. Sam was in the den when they arrived. He was still bare-chested, leaning back in a swivel chair,

one hand cupped around his neck. He tried to tell them what had happened, but he was vague on the details, and he used oddly stilted language. Instead of just saying a man had been in the bedroom, he said he'd seen a form. In a later interview, he called it a biped. He couldn't even say for sure whether it was a man or a woman. The one detail he kept coming back to was that the figure had bushy hair.

He said his memory would have been clearer, but he was dazed from being knocked out. The Hauks listened, then they called the police. This was well beyond anything they could handle on their own. Bay Village police officer Fred Dranken pulled up to the Shepherd home around 6 a.m. He was a 27-year-old patrolman who just happened to be on call that morning. He had no idea what he was walking into, or that it would become one of the most notorious cases in Ohio history.

Drinken went upstairs to see the scene for himself. Marilyn was on her back in the bed. Her face was turned toward the doorway, but even someone who knew her well might not have recognized her. Her head had been struck more than 20 times. Blood soaked the bed and darkened the walls nearby. An autopsy would later put her time of death at around 4.30 deaths. morning. Dranken stood in the doorway and took it in. Then he started moving through the rest of the

house. And at first, it did look like a robbery. Sam's black medical bag was standing upright in the hall, its contents dumped out on the floor. In the den, two trophies lay broken on the carpet, one of Sam's old high school track trophies and Maryland's bowling trophy. The desk drawers had been pulled open, but they'd been pulled open too neatly, each one stacked above the next, and nothing really valuable seemed to be missing. To Drunken, the scene didn't read like a burglary. It read like someone wanted it to look like one. There were no signs of forced entry, no broken window, no jimmied lock, and no one in the neighborhood had reported a prowler that night. On downstairs, Sam had described a stranger who'd broken in, killed Maryland, and

vanished into Lake Erie without a trace. But standing in that house, Dranken had a hard time believing it. The whole thing felt staged. Sam himself had seemed so cold, so detached, telling it, Dranken couldn't stop the question forming in his mind. What if it hadn't been a stranger at all? What if this was the work of someone much closer to Maryland? Someone with a personal, specific rage toward her. Someone like her husband. Dr. Sam Shepard.

Thanks so much for listening. I'm Carter Roy, and this is Murder, True Crime, stories. Come back next time for part two on the murder of Maryland Shepherd and all the people it affected. Murder True Crime Stories is a Crime House original powered by Pave Studios here at Crimehouse and we want to thank each and every one of you for your support. If you like what you heard today, reach out on social media at Crime House on TikTok and Instagram. Don't forget to rate, review, and follow Murder True Crime Stories wherever you get your podcasts. Your feedback truly makes a difference. And to enhance your murder true crime stories listening experience,

subscribe to Crimehouse Plus on Apple Podcasts. You'll get both parts of every story dropped on Tuesday completely ad-free, no waiting for part two, plus ad-free and early access to every show across Crime House and bonus episodes every month. To join, go to Crimehouseplus.com, or if you listen on Apple Podcasts, tap Try Free at the top of the Murder True Crime Stories page. We'll be back on Thursday. Murder True Crime Stories is hosted by me, Carter Roy, and is a Crime House original powered by Pave Studios. This episode was brought to life by the Murder True Crime Stories team, Max Cutler,

Ron Shapiro, Alex Benadon, Natalie Pertsovsky, Alyssa Fox, Alex Burns, Cassidy Dillon, and Russell Nash. Thank you for listening. Hi, listeners, it's Carter. before today's episode of murder true crime stories, I want to tell you about another podcast I am hosting. I know you'll love. Crime House and A&E are teaming up on the podcast version of the famous true crime series, The First 48.

Each week, I'll take you inside a landmark homicide case, the interrogations, the dead ends, and the breakthroughs in the critical first 48 hours. Listen to and follow the first 48, every Thursday on Apple Podcasts, Spotify, Amazon Music, or wherever you listen to podcasts.